Unbinding Pain
by tehzo
Summary: Season two, episodeCalling...“...would he sacrifice his dream out of loyalty to you?”...Chloe finally faces the truth and decides to move on from Clark Kent.


Title: Unbinding Pain

Summary: Takes place in Season two, episode-Calling..."...would he sacrifice his dream out of loyalty to you?"...Chloe finally faces the truth and moves on from Clark Kent.

Disclaimer: Don't own anything related to Smallville.

A/N: It always bothered me what the Smallville writers did to Chloe's character in Season two. It seemed like her only reason for living was to be bitter and sad over Clark.

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_**-Happiness is a choice that requires effort at times-**_

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"_...would he sacrifice his dream out of loyalty to you?"_

It had all started then.

Ever since those words fell out of Lionel Luthor's mouth, Chloe couldn't seem to find peace. Lionel had left her to her thoughts and it'd started biting at her then. It wasn't the question of what the answer might be that bothered her. No, not at all. It wasn't even the doubt. Because, well, there was no doubt. It was the realization, the severe _inevitable_ truth following it a beat later.

The distress of losing _her _dream would come later. At that moment, she didn't carry enough strength to deal with both wounds at the same time. And her mind, or truthfully-her heart, made the choice of which one she was going to deal with first.

She hadn't dealt with it exactly. She remembered going back to finishing her work after Lionel left. She tried. She really did. Stared at the screen, attempted to type comprehendible sentences, shuffled through important files. It hadn't work though. Albeit the survivor in her forbade tears from appearing, the pain inside was still present and increasing. It had felt like thin, well-crafted steel pins. The pins excruciatingly poked into her heart. They'd sunk in deeper at an agonizingly slow pace. And when they were all the way in-their ends reaching the surface, they'd popped back out. Quickly finding another unscathed surface, they started the process all over again.

So maybe she was being overly dramatic about the entire situation. But it was too late by then. She dug up old memories,memories involving _him_. Old wounds emerged and she got so worked up that every emotion was magnified to her and would have definitely been exaggerated to others. The metaphor of pins wasn't an idea of how it was, it _was_ the actual thing.

Three...four...she couldn't really remember how many hours she sat in the Torch office, just thinking.

She had been very emotional, probably not the best time to go but that didn't stop her. She got up under the notion that it was time to play the caring and faithful friend. She only begrudgingly admitted it to herself that it was also an excuse to see him. She snatched the car keys off the desk, slipped on her jacket, grabbed her bag and shot out the door. It hadn't registered then but looking back at it now, she finally understood why during the drive to his house, her hands had unexpectedly began to sweat. Her hands only sweated when there was danger ahead. In this case, the danger was going to be psychological.

She'd ignored the sweaty hands, even the strange tightening in her stomach. The Kent farm came into view. She slightly bounced up and down on the uneven driveway. She stopped and pulled the key out of the ignition. Wiping her hands on her jeans a little too roughly, she stepped out of the car. Two solid steps later, the movement in her feet faltered.

Lana's car was there.

And the invisible hold on her stomach tightened more.

She should have gone back. She should have turned around right away and sped out of there. But...of course, she didn't. Instead, she pathetically argued with herself that their alone time paled in comparison to the importance of the threat of Lionel.

She entered the barn. Instead of calling out his name, she went in search of him. Her eyes roamed throughout the barn, no one was there. As her eyes landed on the stairway, her feet had already started to move on their own accord. It was a fleeting thought when she wondered why her boots didn't produce the usual racket on the rusty wooden steps. She turned her head when the second floor came in sight. Her breathe caught in her throat...she _really_ should have gone back when she had the chance.

Lana and...Clark...were glued together by a passionate kiss. Still in the magnified- emotions mode, her stomach squeezed harshly as much as it possibly could. The pain burned strongly inside. Her vision became unfocused. Her head felt light, almost dizzy.

She didn't cry though.

Her legs got her to the car quickly and, most importantly, quietly. Her mind was muddled, so she couldn't even make the wise decision of not driving. In the hurriedness of putting the keys into the ignition, her hand slipped and her finger rammed painfully into the steel. Her eyes scrunched up, her mouth still not eliciting a sound. The third time the keys went in successfully and the red convertible fired out of the Kent farm a second later.

They were _together_. They had finally gotten together. Lana loved Clark and Clark...loved Lana. _Not_ Chloe. _Never_ Chloe. In all predictability, they were going to hide it from her. At first for sure, then until someone obligingly decided to tell her in a most certainly unwanted conversation. She'd be something they'd have to _deal_ with. A brief, sharp burst of anger shot through her. She didn't want to have to be something they dealt with. A thought struck her that she could go to Lionel.

Not yet, revenge was for the progression to anger. She was still having trouble managing with the pain.

_They were together now_.

It hit her full-force again.

She couldn't cry. Every cell in her body roared against it. Yet...every cell in her body also desired it. Desired the release. But she couldn't allow it. For some unexplainable reason, she just couldn't.

She had driven home, taken a long bath and slipped under her heavy covers. Sleep didn't come to her, not for hours. In the dark silence of her room, she gazed at the white ceiling and thought. Her thoughts were of many things. Her self-flagging, her denial, her overpowered angst, her pitiful self...too many things to account for.

It was the morning that had brought the one shining moment. The bright rays of sun filled her room. She pushed the covers off and sat up. It was clarity that fell upon her, or awakened from somewhere deep in her. She couldn't go on like this anymore. She'd almost considered going to _Lionel Luthor_. And it did surprise her that she could possibly be that vindictive. All of it was a shitty way to live life. She'd finally been willingly to remove the blinds she'd set over her senses. A quote she couldn't place-what's the point of living if you can't feel alive? And lately she had been feeling hallow. Not alive. Just empty.

She got out of bed and got dressed. She couldn't put into words what she'd felt, her revelations, in the past twenty-four hours, there were simply too much. But all of it led up to her being where she was now. Sitting on the ground of a grassy field, under the shade of a large oak tree. She took comfort in the towering tree. It symbolized strength, and she needed it more than ever for what was coming. Silence drifted in all directions. Sounds coming from only the rustling leaves. And her steady breathe.

She was attired in light colored jeans, a simple v-neck white shirt, and a black collared jacket. Simple and plain, no vibrant colors. It was a minuscule decision to dress up in black and white. Consciously, she didn't feel very colorful. Unconsciously, maybe it represented a blank slate. This was supposed to, and hopefully, be a small milestone of a new beginning for her. Some would find it odd-referring to her seemingly sudden change of heart. Twenty-four hours _was _a short time, but this change was a long time in the making.

This meeting...she demanded closure, to put it to rest, to finally destroy the disgusting denial she'd been harboring. In the course of a year, she'd become a shell of the person she really was. And all of it was over just a guy. Yes, it was true that he'd always be somewhat special to her. But he was _just_ a guy.

A twig snapped behind her, alerting her to his arrival.

Clark came from the other side of the tree and stepped into her line of vision. "Hey, Chloe. Is something wrong? You sounded weird on the phone and you said it was important." His eyes were slightly concerned. Chloe bitterly willed him to stop with the worried act. It would make it so much easier if he didn't show he cared.

"Nothing's wrong. And it is important," she absently picked at some grass as she spoke. "This will probably take a little bit of time...are you free?"

"Yeah, I am. What's going on, Chloe?...It's not something bad, is it?" His height shrunk as he sat down in front of her. She could have laughed. His big frame looked ridiculous sitting there, his legs folded Indian-style.

"No, it's nothing bad. It's actually supposed to be something good." She knew what she wanted to say but the words failed to form in her head sensibly. "You consider yourself my friend, right?"

Clark's brows furrowed, "Of course I do, Chloe. I know we've been going through a rough patch lately. But we'll work it out." He was confused. He didn't have the slightest clue as to what Chloe wanted to speak about. And the fact that she wasn't really acting like herself added to the confusion. He was worried when she called and asked to meet him, saying that it was very important. His first instinct was that some kind of trouble had found her. When he arrived, he saw her from afar sitting under a tree. During his walk to reach her, he racked his brain for why Chloe would want to meet, and out here, far away from people. He came up with nothing. But, he did feel wary. He felt like something big was going to happen. It irritated him that he had no idea as to what it could be.

"This , might be on the weird side," she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. This was it, no turning back. "Now, I'm not saying this as taking a sarcastic crack at you so please don't get offended. Your inability with confronting emotional situations is going to probably make this very uncomfortable for you. But I need you to be my friend right now and help me easily say all I need to say."

He did have problems with emotional situations and the way she said it wasn't harmful, so he didn't address that part. "Chloe, you can say anything to me." She was starting to worry him again.

"I, uh...I need to say this in a certain way, otherwise it won't come out right. You might think you know where I'm going to go with all of this once I've started, but it's not that. Just remember that it's supposed to be something good...for me and you."

"Chloe, just tell me. All this build up kinda points to something bad."

She shook her head and patiently told him again, "It's really not...and please don't interrupt me, umm...it'll be easier if I can get this out in one go." She closed her eyes for a moment and let a sigh pass her lips. "I think I started having a small, inconsequential crush on you since the first day I met you, the day I kissed you." Clark's eyes widened slightly. Chloe stared straight into his eyes, what she was gonna say was included in the _everything _he said a few moments ago. He couldn't back out now. "I didn't really think about it then. You became my friend, one of my best friends. It wasn't even really a _crush_...just an extra fondness towards you." Her eyes moved across the field, she didn't want to look into his eyes the entire time.

"But, then...every guy, potential something-more guy...they all turned out...wrong. Most just wanted to kill me, but there were others...In the end, you were always there. Either to save me or just there. You slowly started becoming the perfect guy. It was so much easier and painless to focus on you instead of risking getting hurt again," she paused. "And my feelings for you started to grow into something more. I let myself be forced into falling for you under those circumstances." A tiny smirk appeared and vanished as quickly on her lips, "The perfect guy...I ignored the little things because like I said, it was easier to focus on you. I also ignored that your affections obviously laid else where. I guess I was, uh...being thickheaded...hoping against hope that the truth of you...of you loving Lana was a lie."

Another happening to go with this crooked day, her voice took on a slight raspy tone from all the talking. "And at the Spring Formal, it was finally going good for me. It would have been a complete lie then, but now I'm happy that _we _never happened. The heartache would've been so much worse." She returned her gaze to his. And...it was weird that he was staring straight at her. Staring intently. She was almost positive that he'd be looking down, trying to take all she was saying in and sporting an expression of discomfort. She cleared her throat, "When it didn't work...this past year was just me being bitter."

Chloe paused, "You know...or I think you know me a little well. I value truth and being straightforward. Despite that, even I couldn't resist the compelling blanket of denial. Can you imagine, Clark, what that felt for someone like me? It was sad, in the pathetic sense. I mean can you understand? I...for me it was twice as hard to try and remove the comfort of denial because I'm someone who is always for the truth." She stopped for a moment. The sadness in her was bubbling up higher. And she couldn't stop it. "This is mostly my fault but a part of it is yours as well."

"What d..." Clark cut in.

"I told you, Clark, not to interrupt me. Remember, you're trying to be the considerate friend now." She reminded him and he closed his mouth after a second's hesitation. She felt better that he interrupted her. A spark of annoyance replaced a part of sadness because of it. "Yes, it was your fault too. You could have sat me down, told me in kind but simple terms that it was never going to be me. Instead, you did nothing. You thought that my feelings would pass with given time...as if they were so fickle...like they meant nothing. And if it's harsh to hear than I'll let you know it felt a hundred times worse." She felt satisfaction when his head bent down slightly and he averted his gaze. At least he was accepting it now. "But, like I said...it was my fault more. I should have been stronger."

"I had to get all of this out, Clark. To get rid of the weight that was slowly pushing me down. It might seem dumb to you, but I needed this. I can finally let go." She crawled towards him. Leaving an inch of space between them, she rested on her knees. She gently took one of his hands and held it next to her heart with both of her hands. "Now this is the really weird part. I know, I know...what more could I possibly want." She silently cursed when her breathing began to become erratic. Her words were struggling their way out of her mouth. "Can you...can you...please tell me that, no matter what, you'll never love me. Tell me that it'll always be someone else but _never _me."

His eyes widened. He made a small attempt to pull his hand away in shock but she held on tight. "Chloe, it's not true. I _do _care about you and I love you as a friend."

Her eyes were watering. Her heart broke a little more at his perfected ability to say the absolute wrong thing at the absolute wrong time. She'd been so good. She kept her mask on in place throughout her entire speech. But now...she felt her resolve slipping away from her like ice. He _loved _her...as a friend. Keep talking, she told herself. Her voice cracked but she managed to speak to him in a stern tone, "You know damn well that isn't what I'm talking about. Don't be difficult, Clark. Friends are supposed to want happiness for each other. You've never given me the consideration before, please do so now." Her voice descended into a whisper. "_Please_, Clark. I'm asking you to help me be happy." She struggled to keep her eyes open to prevent the tears from falling.

Clark looked at her with incredulous and pained eyes. He would never have been able to do it before. And now...after all she revealed to him... she expected him to say it now. However, how could he_ not_ give her what she wanted. He'd done this to her. He'd caused so much sadness in her life. It was all him. It made him feel guilty, sad, and disgusted. Here he was the happiest he'd ever been, and his friend was in this state. Everything she accused herself of was true for him as well. He'd also lived blindly under the blanket of denial concerning her. The selfish part of him let the thought arise that since she was obviously over him...would she want to be friends with someone as horrible as him?

His voice was dull because he couldn't speak his words with conviction. His hand gripped hers. "I'll...I'll never love you."

Her heart broke completely. Sometimes you needed to crush the old to grasp the new. A sigh that turned into a sob escaped her. She closed her eyes for a moment, this was what she wanted. When she opened them, a small smile graced her face. "Thank you so much," her voice conveyed her gratitude.

"I'm sorry," Clark said.

A small breathless laugh erupted from somewhere in her. He moved to hug her but she backed away. The sad smile still in place, Chloe said, "I'm not."

"Chloe..."

"No...please just go," she backed away even more and stood up. "I really mean it, thank you...just please go now." Her vision was becoming more blurry. "_Please_."

He hesitated. Slowly he started to walk away. As if suddenly remembering something, he stopped and turned around, "Call me?"

Chloe laughed, contentment mingled with sadness, "Top of my speed dial."

Clark flashed his bright white teeth and turned again to walk away.

She released a relieved sigh. Her eyelids were finally allowed to rest. The deserted field, the trees and birds would be her only witnesses. The tears fell across her face, her eyes stopped burning. It was okay to cry now. The last bits of misery could smoothly flow out of her. Her sobs racked her petite body and gradually raised in volume. The muscles in her knees failed and she gently fell to the ground. She clutched her stomach and cried the second hardest she'd ever done in her life. She'll move on now. She'll be happy and deserving of the life bestowed upon her now. It hurt so much now, but it would lead to something great afterwards.

"_...would he sacrifice his dream out of loyalty to you?"_

Chloe later thought of the irony. Lionel Luthor was indeed a brilliant man. He possessed the ability to judge people impeccably. He knew how to cause the most damage with the strike of a few well-placed words. She wondered what he would feel if he knew that his intended strike didn't hurt her, but opened her eyes. Opened her up to new possibilities. Made her aware that the happiness she knew was always there, was really possible.

The End.


End file.
